Disappointed

A Lady Who Was Disappointed Some of the Things You Need Not Take to Tahiti

THERE is a lady of Irish-North Ameri can ancestry staying at Papeete.

In her native country, the fogs and mists, the noise and confusion of traffic that* neyer ceases; the hackneyed sub jects which are usually discussed with the originality of a gramophone record; the boredom of going to the same parties with the same people, doing the same things, year after year; the drab monotony of so-called entertainment — had sent her mind to the refuge of dreams of a fair land far away where romance immortal reigns.

One day, she read a book which assured her that such a land lay far out on the sapphire bosom of the broad Pacific, and she was fascinated into undertaking the long voyage.

Now she is here, and romance some how has passed her by, and she is dis appointed. She is threatening to tra duce the fair fame of our peerless island in the newspapers of her native state, when she returns home.

Of course, we are sorry; but it all was inevitable. She brought with her the very things she had travelled so far to escape.

First of all, she brought standardisa tion —that method of mass production by which cosmeticians have created mil lions of expressionless masks that bury deeply feminine charm. At a dinner or evening party a blonde lady, well appointed with what these cosmeticians call glamour, looks like Banquo’s ghost, beside the golden-brown complexions of our Tahitian women, and the warm Spanish brunette of our Euronesians.

Secondly, like so many of her coun try-women, she has carried with her that extraordinary mental quality that looks upon everything which departs from the rigid uniformity of the stand ards of her suburban birthplace, as foreign and heathen, and wicked.

Thirdly, she brought as her principal baggage, a disposition which would be dissatisfied in any environment.

The oceans and land highways are crowded with travellers seeking escape from something—they know not what.

Actually, it is themselves. They have not learned that romance, and happi ness, and contentment, like the King dom of Heaven, are within one’s own mind and spirit.—A.C.R., Tahiti.